Paybacks
by Angel LeeAnn
Summary: FINISHED! Marguerite and Roxton play a game of pranks.
1. Domesticated

(I forgot to do this earlier, so I had to go back and repost this chapter.):

Title: Paybacks

Author: Angel LeeAnn

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Marguerite and Roxton play a game of paybacks.

Disclaimer: They aren't owned by me.

This story has **NOTHING** to do with _Trusting Danger_ or _Unsuspecting Danger_.

Chapter One

Domesticated

Part One

Stretching, Marguerite staggered into the kitchenette.  She had returned from her leisure walk, but felt tenser than when she left.  She stopped dead in her tracks as her eyes fell on Roxton's well-toned backside.  He was oblivious to her entrance, busy stirring contents in three different pots.  And he was humming.  Stifling a giggle, she bit her lower lip.  _Who would have guessed?_

Roxton lifted a spoon to his face, sniffing the contents before timidly taking a taste.  His nose curled up repulsively.  "What the hell," he muttered to him self.  "I swear I followed the instructions…mmm…" He reached up into the cabinet above the "stove" and withdrew a spice.  Looking at it oddly, he seemed to ponder his next move before shrugging and dumping a heaping full into the pan.  After mixing the spice thoroughly, he hesitantly tried the food again.  "Ahg!" He dropped the spoon in the pot as he rushed over to the makeshift sink.  He stuck his head under the faucet and cranked the water pressure full blast.

Marguerite couldn't contain her self.  She let loose a powerful laugh that nearly doubled her over.  "What… are you…doing?"  She managed to whiz between fits of laughter.

From his bent-over, tilted-head position, Roxton eyed her with a mixture of irritation and amusement.  When the revolting taste in his mouth subsided, he switched the faucet off and wiped his dripping face off with the back of his hand.  "Nothing."  He ambled over to the stove and glared down at the pot of mystery.  "I used to make this all the time.  I just don't understand what's wrong with it."

Marguerite shook her head and strolled over, peering down into the pot.  "Well, I can tell you what's wrong with it."

"What?"

She poked the mush with the spoon.  "It's alive."

Roxton pressed his lips together and rolled his eyes.  "It's gourmet, Marguerite."

"Gourmet?  Since when do you cook gourmet?  Actually, since when do you cook anything at all?"

Roxton sighed with a chuckle.  "I hardly cook anything that's not been shot, yet alone anything gourmet.  Yet, I did pick up a few recipe over the years of my travels."

"Ok…so what is this…mush?"

"It's called _Mee Goreng_.  It's fried noodles with prawns, eggs, meats, and hot sauce.  Yet, I had to exclude the prawns because: where would I get those around here?  Anyway, I believe it is an Indian dish.  Not Native American.  I mean from India or some country out that way.  I don't know."  He eyed the dish as though he were about to discipline it.

"You continue to amaze me, John."  Marguerite handed him the spoon.  "And maybe it doesn't taste right because you're missing an ingredient."

He stared at her with a teasing grin.  "Always stating the obvious."

"Well, I wouldn't have to if you could realize it yourself."

"Yeah, yeah, go sit down.  The rest of dinner is ready and it's delicious."  He swatted her gently on the behind and she yelped at the intrusion.  "Oh, quit being a drama queen, Marguerite and…_sit the bloody hell down_."

She tossed him an angry glare from over her shoulder, but did his bidding.  She plopped onto the nearest chair and rolled her eyes up at him.  "So now what, John?  You choke me to death with your cooking?"

Roxton barked out a laugh.  "Ha!  Look who's talking!  Need I remind you that every time you cook, we use the left overs as poison to kill the dinosaurs?  That is, if they are brave enough to even sniff it."

Marguerite made a slight, impatient growl in the back of her throat.  "You're so lucky I find you charmingly insufferable."

"And you're lucky I find you adoringly infuriating."  He set the rest of the table before sitting down beside her.  "With Challenger, Veronica, and Malone gone for the next few days…we have to make do."  He piled his plate with steaming food.

"Oh what a gentleman," Marguerite griped.  "Aren't you supposed to at least offer the lady before digging in?"

"Oh, I would…if there were a lady present."

Marguerite smacked his arm.  "Always so witty aren't you?"

"It is just part of my charm."

Marguerite sighed, smiling at their routine banter.  "You think your charm could forgive you of anything."

Roxton pretended to think it over.  "Well, it tends to work…so why not use it?"

"Because it works."

Part Two

After eating, together they cleared the table and washed the dishes.  Marguerite was putting the boiling pot into place above the fire pit when suddenly she was splashed with soapy water.  She whirled around, her mouth agape.  "Lord John Roxton!" she scolded.  "This is so not funny."

"I thought you could use a bath.  You were beginning to kill the wildflowers."  He indicated the vase in the middle of the table.  The lilies were withering.

"That's because," she seethed, "the flowers are already dead!"  She stormed over, her fists clasped at her side.  "Do you enjoy being cruel, John?  Because -- " she threw herself at him, causing him to loose his balance and stagger " – I enjoy it, too!"  She pressed her soaked shirt against his chest.  Then, reached up and wrung her dripping hair onto his shoulders.  She stepped back, not yet satisfied.

Roxton chuckled whole-heartedly.  "You do love to play dirty, don't you?"

"That was only the beginning."  She sauntered away from him.  "I'll strike when you least expect it, Lord Roxton."

"I guess I'll have to sleep with both eyes open."

She raised her eyebrows at him.  "Guess so, Lord Roxton."

"I think I'm frightened to go to bed."

"Then don't go to bed," she teased.

"Oh no, I'm definitely going to bed."

"Oh really?"

"You owe me for dinner, Mrs. Roxton."

End Chapter One

Good?  Bad?  _TERRIBLE_?  This is unlike my other stories.  I hope it's to your liking.


	2. Let the Games Begin

Chapter Two

Let the Games Begin

Still panting, Roxton rolled off of Marguerite and sighed with content, staring up at the ceiling.  "Marguerite, darling, you are an incredible woman."

She smiled slyly, drawing the covers more firmly against her damp body.  "See, John, I have my talents…other than being infuriating."  She snuggled against his side and relished in the feel of having his solid, warm body beside her.  "You know, it only took us four years.  Veronica and Malone are still wandering around clueless."

Roxton chuckled, wrapping an arm securely around his wife.  "Maybe we should shove them in the right direction."

"It's not our business to mingle with their affairs, John."

"Since when haven't you been nosey?"

"Since ever."  She rolled over so that she was facing him.  "John…there's something I need to tell you."  She glanced down, unable to meet his eyes for fear of the betrayal she knew she would find there.  "I made a…mistake.  A horrible mistake.  It was one of those impulsive moves I always tend to make.  And I want you to know that I'm sorry.  I'm really sorry.  It really didn't mean anything.  I swear."

Roxton peered at her strangely, and a bit worriedly.  "Whatever it is, darling, it can be forgiven."

"No," she pulled away from him, clutching the blanket to her.  "No, it can't be forgiven.  I…god, how do I tell you this?"  She ran a hand nervously through her hair.  "I don't know why I did it, but it seemed so harmless and right at the time."  She swung her feet off the bed and hissed as they connected with the cold wooden floor.  "Last week…I kissed Malone.  I mean I _kissed_ him."

"You…you what?"  Roxton sat up, rubbing his face with his hands.  "Why, Marguerite?  Why would you…you…kiss him?"

"We were patrolling the fence where it had weakened.  We started talking and one thing led to another and I…I just…kissed him.  I got caught up in the moment, but after getting over the shock he pushed me away.  I felt so ashamed and he was mortified, but kind.  He promised he wouldn't tell anyone."

"Marguerite," he murmured.  "I…I don't know what to say."  He got out of bed, slipping on his trousers.  "This is…quite a confession, but…" he came around the bed to her side and knelt down to be level with her.  "But, Marguerite, darling, I love you and I'm not going to loose you over this.  So you kissed Malone.  Beg deal.  As long as it never happens again, I don't see why we can't forget the whole bloody thing."

_Damn_, she thought disgruntled.  _He wasn't supposed to take it so well._  _Yet…this has possibilities.  I can milk this one before going on to Plan B._

Marguerite smiled, throwing her arms around her husband.  "Oh, John, I'm so glad you're not angry with me."

_The hell I'm not angry_, Roxton thought bitterly.  _Damn it, she kissed another man!_  "Of course not, darling.  Can I ever stay mad at you?"  _No…I can't, but I can stay infuriated at her actions.  How could she do this to me?_  "Hey, it never happened, ok, darling?"  _Never happened my arse._

Hugging him tightly, Roxton couldn't see the gleam in her eye.  _Payback's a bitch, John, my love._

End Chapter Two

I hope no one got confused.  Remember in Chapter One she said she would pay him back for the stunt he pulled?  Well…she's doing just that.  Anyway, thank you for past reviews and (hopefully) future ones.


	3. Masking Hostility

Chapter Three

Masking Hostility

Part One

Roxton was savagely cutting the fruit, slamming the blade unnecessarily hard through the apples as he clenched his teeth in restraint.  The other three had rejoined them today and when Malone had wrapped his grimy arms around Marguerite in a quick hug, Roxton had the urge to rip his hands off.  Yet, he had immediately regretted the instinctive thought and felt immense guilt.  He loved Ned nearly as much as he had his brother, William, and would never wish harm to come to the young journalist.  Besides, Marguerite had told him it was she who had kissed him.  Malone wasn't at fault.  Furthermore, Malone was madly in love with Veronica.

"Roxton, dear man, you're going to accidentally slice a finger off if you keep that up," Challenger scolded.  He strolled over, his hands full of various scientific instruments.  "What's troubling you, John?"  He indicated the battered fruit with a slight nod.  "That's a sure sign something's bothering you."

Roxton gently set the knife down.  "Oh, it's nothing, George.  I'm just blowing off some excess energy."

Challenger crinkled his eyebrows in disbelief and said calmly: "Did you and Marguerite have a fight while we were away?"

Roxton slightly shook his head.  "No, of course not, George.  Marguerite and I are fine."  He glanced over to where Veronica was braiding his wife's hair out on the balcony.  _My God, she's gorgeous._  His frustration melted away as her laugh reached his ears.

"Veronica!" Marguerite exclaimed, patting the top of her head.  "What are you doing to my hair?  Haven't you ever braided before?"

"I told you I haven't had much practice," the jungle girl retorted with a giggle.  "But don't worry, I can fix it."

Malone strolled out of his bedroom, grinning like a fool.  "I wish I had more than my pen and paper.  This moment needs a good photo or two."  He walked over to Veronica's side and stared down at her handiwork.  "Veronica, I advise you to keep your day job," he teased, jerking at the hand that smacked his arm.

"Ned, is it really that horrid?"  Marguerite asked, reaching back to feel the rest of her dark hair.

"It would make a great bird's nest," Roxton jibed from the table.  He smiled when she sent him a glare and marveled in the moment when her sneer softened into a return smile.

Malone lifted up the braid to "inspect" before allowing it to drop.  "Well, Marguerite, it sure detracts from your usually debonair look."  He tapped her shoulder soothingly with his palm.  "But don't worry.  I'm sure Veronica can undo her disaster."

Roxton's eyes narrowed when Marguerite peered up at Malone with one of her glorious smiles and radiating eyes.  She reserved those whole-hearted smiles for him.  Or, at least she used to.

_Score one for me_, Marguerite thought gleefully when, for the corner of her eye, she noticed the flash of jealousy briefly cross her husband's features.  _Should I flirt more heavily?_  She glanced over at Roxton.  _No.  That would be too cruel.  I suppose I should fuss up._  She peered around at the faces of her friends.  _I'll do it tonight._

Part Two

The air was unusually crisp, or at least it felt that way to the explorers who hadn't felt many chills since arriving at the plateau.  Challenger had taken the temperature and pointed out that it was still warmer than what it normally was back in London.  They had just forgotten how a dip in temperature felt.

Nevertheless, Roxton volunteered to chop some extra wood and was dismayed when Malone followed him into the elevator.  "I'll help," he stated casually.  "It sure beats getting suckered into cooking detail."

They reached the ground and both set about hacking away at the wood.  After awhile, Roxton stole a peek Malone's way and was suddenly assaulted with the need to confess what he knew.  "Malone, can I ask you something?"

Malone selected another log to chop.  "I don't see why not."

"I know about what happened between you and Marguerite.  And I have no hard feelings about it.  Well, honestly, I did at first, but I've let it go.  I just want to be sure it'll never happen again."

Malone stopped his task and stared oddly at the hunter.  "What do you mean, Roxton?  Nothing happened between me and Marguerite."

Roxton sputtered a moment, confused.  "But…she told me, Malone.  And she admitted she initiated the whole thing, so you needn't worry about defending yourself.  I just want to make it clear that it never happens again."  At Malone's perplexity, Roxton sighed and said a bit hotly: "The kiss, Malone.  I know about the kiss!"

Malone's expression turned into a mixture of bewilderment and amusement.  "What are you talking about?  We've never kissed.  I've never even considered the idea.  Honestly, Roxton, what are you talking about?"

Roxton gaped at him strangely before shaking his head.  "Nothing.  Nothing at all."  _Marguerite, darling, it's time to get even._

End Chapter Three

So far I've gotten one bad review, but ten good ones.  My critics, should I continue or scrap this?


	4. Striking Back

Chapter Four

Striking Back

Part One

That evening all through dinner – raptor meat and fruit salad prepared professionally by Veronica – Roxton contemplated his revenge.  He wanted something original and juicy, but was at a loss.  Marguerite wasn't one to fall for simple lies or deceitful acts; she used to be the Queen of Manipulation and knew how to avoid the traps.  Yet, Roxton had one thing on his side: she didn't know that he knew the truth.  Therefore, she wasn't expecting retaliation.

Roxton patted his mouth clean with his handkerchief, then, smiled warmly at his clueless wife, taking her slender hand in his much larger, rougher one.  "Marguerite, darling, will you join me for a walk to the waterfall?"  He slowly rose from his chair, nodding towards Veronica.  "It was delicious, Veronica."

"Thank you, Roxton."

Challenger watched the heiress, and now a Lady, rise to her feet.  "Isn't it getting a bit late to be wandering around outside the electric fence?  What on Earth is there to do at the waterfall this time of night anyway?"  His eyes widened with realization, his cheeks scarlet.  "Oh.  I see," he cleared his throat.  "Be careful.  And try not to stay out _too_ late."

Marguerite's mouth fell open.  "George!"  She glanced around at her other friends, her face burning.  "There are other things to do then…then what you're implying."  She looked up at Roxton and glowered at his attempts to sniffle a chuckle.  "Well, I-I…" she threw her hands in the air and marched to the elevator.  "Are you coming, John?"

Part Two

"You should have seen yourself in there, darling: all flustered and tongue-tied."  Roxton lifted a branch out of the path's way so Marguerite could walk under it.  "But you're gorgeous when you're flustered, Marguerite."  From behind her, he leaned in closely and breathed against her ear.  "But, then again, you're always gorgeous."

Marguerite couldn't contain her flattered smile.  "Well, you're not so bad yourself, Lord Roxton."

Roxton placed a simple kiss at the nape of her neck.  "I'm glad you approve, Lady Roxton."

"I prefer Mrs. Roxton," she turned around, pressed against him.  "It sounds more intimate.  Wouldn't you agree, John?"

"Whatever you say, Mrs. Roxton, my darling."  He devoured her mouth with his.

(Since I'm _not_ a Smut writer by choice and preference, you'll have to use your imagination to insert the sex scene.).

Part Three

Roxton waded over to the side and hauled himself onto the embankment.  He slipped on his trousers all the while watching Marguerite enjoy the water.  "Darling, I think we better get back before they send out the search party."  He gathered up his things as Marguerite glided out of the water.  He handed her panties and bra to her.  "You know, Jasmine had the same set."

She brusquely snatched her undergarments from him and yanked them on.  "Who the bloody hell is Jasmine?"

"Haven't I ever mentioned her before?"  He shrugged it off.  "It doesn't really matter.  She was my wife a couple years before William died.  We eloped while drunk.  Our marriage only lasted a few weeks."

"What?  I don't believe you.  Why wouldn't you have told me this before?"  Marguerite thrust her arms into her blouse.  "I can't believe you never told me!"

"Well, I guess I didn't find it that important."

She whirled on him.  "You think being married wasn't important?  What about our marriage, John?  Is that unimportant to?  God, I can't believe this!"

Roxton felt guilt welling up inside.  He couldn't intentionally allow the cruelty to manifest.  He loved and respected her too much to bear witness to the pain and outrage in her eyes.  "Marguerite, darling, the reason you can't believe it is because it isn't any more true than your kiss with Malone."

"What?!"

He raised his hands in surround.  "I had a little talk with Malone.  I know you didn't really kiss him.  Are we even now?"

Marguerite glared at him a moment before sighing and wrapping her arms around his neck.  "Yeah, we're even."

End Chapter Four

Stay tune for Chapter Five.  Thank you for the reviews!


	5. Prank Or Not?

Chapter Five

Prank…Or Not?

It had been a week since they declared their truce and Roxton was feeling comfortable with the situation.  He soon released his suspicion on Marguerite and relaxed back into normalcy, content with their usual banter and friendly teasing.  She, too, seemed to ease up, her trust in his statements and actions returning with each passing day.

Roxton sat at the table performing one of his favored past times: cleaning his weapons.  He glanced up when Marguerite floated into the room, her face beaming and her hand clasping a cup, which she sat in front of him.  "John, I made you something…with Challenger's help of course."

He tilted his head slightly to the side, his eyes twinkling and mouth curved in a rugged smile.  "And what, my darling Marguerite, is it?  The last time you attempted to make anything, I lost my sense of taste for a week."

"Oh John," she slapped him on the shoulder.  "You did not.  You only lost your sense of taste for _two days_.  And that was because you burnt your taste buds…_not _because of my cooking."

"Well, darling, it was _you_ who cooked the rather burnt…er…whatever it is you want to call what you made.  Boiled dung perhaps?"

Her eyes narrowed and her mouth formed a tight 'O'.  "Oh, John, you can be so cruel.  I tried to do a simple thing as to make my husband breakfast and this is the thanks I get for it?"  She shoved the cup closer to him, the dark liquid spilling over the sides and soaking the table.  "Just try it, John.  For me?"

He scrutinized it with distain before gingerly picking it up and sniffing it.  "Well, it smells all right."

"Of course it's all right.  Challenger and I already tried it.  It's called hot cocoa.  Made from boiling water and crushed cocoa.  It's delicious, John.  Now take a sip."

Roxton tentatively brought the rim to his lips, took a deep breath, and gulped a mouth full.  His eyes watered from the scorching liquid, but it was scrumptious nevertheless.  "Mm, darling, this is divine.  My congrats to the chefs."

"See, John, would I ever lead you astray?"

"Well, indeed you have, my darling."  He took another swing.

"Well, only when you want to be led astray, Lord Roxton."  She pecked his lips, then, leaned back.  "Veronica and I are going to go to the water hole for a little bit.  We'll be back before lunch."

Roxton nodded, taking another gulp.  "Have fun, darling."  He took his last swing and smiled.  It really was favorable and sweet.  He felt something strange stirring in his mouth…something hard.  Roxton spewed the rest of the hot cocoa and gagged.  He peered down at the table and to his horror saw a dead beetle among the drops of liquid.  He flashed his attention to Marguerite who peered in shock at the bug.  "Marguerite!"

She snapped her attention to him.  "What?  I didn't have anything to do with this!  My god, Roxton, you could've swallowed and choked on that beetle!"

"I thought we called a truce, Marguerite."

"We did!" she exclaimed righteously.  "And I've kept up my end of the peace.  I didn't put that beetle in there."

He looked at her oddly.  _Sure, darling_, he thought sarcastically,_ it just happened to jump in there between Challenger's lab and here._  "If you say, darling.  I don't doubt you."  _I guess it's my turn to get even._

End Chapter Five

**Isla**: You were my first reviewer: thanks so much for discovering my story and _liking_ it!  **LoveMR**: You've always reviewed me more kindly than I deserve.  Thank you for enjoying my hard work.  **Wishes**:  You got your wish: I kept going because of reviewers like you.  **Spirita**: You are one of my loyal reviewers.  Thank you so much for keeping me going.  I appreciate it so much.  **NLD-diva**:  Thanks for viewing this story as cute.  I was trying to give that impression.  **A. Windsor**:  I'm thrilled you find this hilarious.  At least I'm reaching some people!  **Mary S**.: Not that I think you continued reading this, but on the off chance you did: I appreciate that not everyone will like my work.  I hope you do find something you enjoy.  **Fab**:  You are so right: this story does have lots of potential.  Who knows where it will go?  **Enchanter**:  I love how Roxton thinks one thing and says another, too.  Personally, I find it one of the more amusing aspects of the story.  Thank you for your review!  **Fran Thurston**: Thank you for the compliments and persuasion to continue on.  **SierraSunshine**:  You are so right about Mary S., but she is entitled to her opinion, even if she comes off sounding a bit cruel.  Thank you for thinking I got M&R down.  **LadySammyMRoxton**:  I totally agree with you.  It's great that they kept their teasing even after marriage.  That stuff usually dies down after the ring is on the finger.  **Everyone**:  I'm sorry if I missed you, but these are the reviewers I had at the time I wrote this.  Thank you all so much. 


	6. A Prank So Bold

Chapter Six

A Prank So Bold

Part One

Humming, Marguerite stripped and stepped into the shower.  She was thrilled that Roxton had believed her about the beetle incident last week.  In fact, he trusted everything she placed in front of him.  She flipped the lever on, closing her eyes and enjoying the feel of the cool water cascading over her body.  She reached for the soap and lathered herself up, sighing as she stepped directly beneath the spray.

Suddenly she realized the water seemed too thick and she flew her eyes open.  She gaped in horror at the mud pooling around her feet.  She leapt from the stall and stared in shock at her figure.  "Roxton!"  She grabbed a towel, securing it around herself tightly.  "_Roxton_!"  She was furious at him.

Her husband bounded into the room, his rifle aimed to shoot.  "What?  What is, Marguerite?"  He glanced wildly around, but saw nothing unusual until his eyes settled on Marguerite.  She was dripping wet…from mud.  "Darling, why are you so filthy?"

"Oh, don't try and act innocent with me, Roxton!"  She grabbed a chunk of her hair and held it out for his inspection.  "Look at me!  What the hell is your problem, Roxton?  Putting mud in the shower system is cruel."

Roxton began to chuckle, lowering his weapon.  "Darling, I didn't put mud in the shower.  The filter Challenger installed must have broke and all the excess mud from the river was able to get through."

"I bet," she seethed, grabbing her clothes and marching off.

Roxton trailed behind her, smiling.  "Why would I intentionally put mud in the shower?"

"Because you think I put the beetle in your drink."  She dumped her stuff on their bed.  She got out her pistol, boots, and a blanket.

"Didn't you?"

She shoved her feet into her shoes.  "How dare you even imply it?  I told you already that I had nothing to do with the beetle!"  She draped the blanket over her wet and dirty body.  "Now if you'll ever so kindly **_beat it_**, I'm going to go take a bath in the water hole!"  She shoved passed him and out the door.

Roxton sighed and followed.  "I'll come with you, darling.  I'll keep a look-out while you wash up."

She whirled on him.  "I don't think so, Roxton.  You stay here…away from me!"  She stormed away, hissing over her shoulder:  "And I'm sleeping in my old room tonight!"   

End Chapter Six

**TheChosenOne3**:  I hope you didn't feel you had to wait too long for this chapter.  And I'm glad you found the beetle thing amusing.  That's what I was aiming for.  **Velma-Kelly-online**:  I couldn't help but laugh when I read your review.  I'm thrilled my story amused you so much you felt the need to laugh out loud.  **SiarraSunshine**:  I didn't think you were being cruel.  How did you get that impression?

Due to popular demand, I am _thinking_ about making my _Trusting Danger_ and _Unexpected Danger_ duo into a trilogy.  However, I still have summer homework to complete before August 26.  And then I have to go to Arizona for my brother's wedding.  So, I probably won't start the third story in the series until after September 27.  That is, if I decide to do it at all.  


	7. Tension Mounting

It is now August 15 at 3:30AM EST and I've finally been able to log online!  I was apart of the Northeast Blackout.  I got stuck at the store for an hour with no lights or A\C in over 90'F. weather.  We're finally allowed out of the store and I go home, driving on a main street where none of the traffic lights were working.  What a riot.

Chapter Seven

Tension Mounting

Part One

Roxton stomped around the tree house.  Marguerite ignored his existence.  Challenger only sighed and went to hide himself in his lab.  Malone felt awkward and spent most of his time coped in his room writing in his journal.  Veronica pursed her lips tightly together and fought back the urge to scream.  Yet, she – like the others – didn't want to mingle into the lovers' quarrel.

The evening sipped away into dusk until finally the sun's last rays dipped below the horizon.  Roxton was slumped in a chair tossing an apple in the air; determined not to be the one to slink off to bed first.  Occasionally he glanced over at Marguerite who was lounged out on the balcony's bench reading a book.  She had distinct features, especially her large, luminous but – strangely – dark as well, hazel eyes.  She was lovely and poised, ready to take on whatever the world threw her way.  And the fates had just happened to fling him into her life.  For that he was eternally grateful.

Roxton sighed, clasping the piece of fruit in his hand and stood up, strolling over to where his wife sat.  "Marguerite, darling…"

"Shut up, Roxton.  I don't want to hear it."  She titled her back towards him, grasping the book more firmly.

"Well, I sure the bloody hell don't have to take that from you," he retorted.  Roxton chucked the apple into the wilderness and marched off into their room.  _The nerve of that woman!_  He kicked the edge of the bed, grimacing when his toe caught the worst of it.

He yanked off his suspenders and violently unbuttoned his shirt, wrenched it off, and in a fury, balled it up and hurled it across the room.  He kicked off his boots and allowed his body to drop like dead weight face first onto the mattress.  _God she's infuriating._

Part Two

_The nerve of that man!_  Marguerite launched the book across the room; it crashed into a bookshelf, bouncing off of _Moby Dick_ and landing on the floor with the cover open.  She hadn't been reading it anyway, but staring at the aging paper, occasionally turning a page.

She leapt to her feet, glaring at the door to their bedroom.  He was usually endearing and compassionate, but at times he drove her mad.  She stormed into her old room where some of her stuff was still stored.  She viciously tore off her outer clothing.

A joke was one thing, but putting mud into the shower was taking it too far, especially considering how much she savored in being clean and presentable.

She dropped her rear end to the mattress.  Yet, as much as she was furious with him didn't compare to how much she loved him.  And she blamed him for that, too.  _He is charming and likeable on purpose_, she decided.  She flopped back, staring up at the ceiling.  _God he's insufferable._

End Chapter Seven

Thank you all for the reviews!


	8. In the Bed

Chapter Eight

In the Bed

Marguerite, still tense from the previous night, but feeling a bit more calm and clear-headed, stretched out her limps and sighed.  Maybe she had been a bit harsh and judgmental.  There was no evidence that Roxton had tampered with the shower except for his belief that she had placed the beetle in his drink.  Sighing again, she pressed her feet into the mattress.

Something grazed across her right leg and she shrieked, leaping out of bed and tossing the covers aside.  A black snake hissed at her, it's beady eyes enraged at her disturbing him.  Marguerite screeched and dashed out of the room.  "Roxton!  Roxton, you little bastard!"

Roxton burst from their room.  "What?  What is it Marguerite?"

"First the mud yesterday and now this!  What?  You couldn't handle being alone?  Wanted to pay me back for not sleeping in the same bed with you?"

"Enough!"  Roxton marched over to her and grabbed her shoulders.  "I don't know what the bloody hell you're talking about, Marguerite."

"The snake!"  She shrugged out of his grasp, snatched one of his hands, and dragged him into her old bedroom.  She pointed down at the reptilian.  "Look!  You see that ugly thing?  I woke up with it crawling against my leg!"

Roxton yanked her back away from the bed.  "Marguerite, darling, I swear I didn't put that snake there.  I wouldn't have under any circumstances.  That's a poisonous snake."  He glanced her way.  "Are you sure, darling, that you weren't bitten?"

"I think I would know whether or not I was bitten by a snake, John."

Roxton couldn't help but smile.  She hadn't called him John the last couple of days and he had begun to miss the closeness it represented.  Shoving aside his moment of happiness, he turned his attention back to the matter at hand.  "Marguerite, go get one of Challenger's nets.  I'll catch him and set him free."

"No, you'll catch him and kill him," she ordered, then ran off to get the net.

When she returned, Roxton carefully approached the bed, moving slowly as to not upset the dangerous creature.  Marguerite looked on from the doorway, biting her lower lip from nerves.  She gasped when the snack shot forward, striking at the net.  Roxton leapt back then gingerly made his way closer.  He draped the butterfly net over the snack and swung it around, entrapping the creature.  The snack hissed and thrashed around.

Roxton hastily left the room and bounded down the stairs to Challenger's lab.  "George, I've got something that may interest you."

Marguerite waited at the top of the steps and when Roxton returned a few minutes later, she threw her arms around his neck.  "Oh, John, this is getting out of hand.  Who do you suppose put that snack in my bed?"

"No one, darling," he chuckled.  "Though, I'm sure at times Veronica wishes she could."  He kissed the top of her head.  "See, if you had been with me last night like you should have been, you would've been risk free."

"Well, I wouldn't have been in a different bed if you hadn't put mud in the shower."

He sighed.  "We've been through this, Marguerite."

Marguerite stepped back, eyeing him coldly.  "That doesn't mean I believe you."

"Well why should I believe you then?  I think you lied about not putting the beetle in my drink."

"I didn't put the beetle in your drink!"

"You know what, I'm willing to admit the truth.  The snake wasn't poisonous."

"What?  You mean you did put that thing in my bed!"

"No, no, no, I didn't put it there, but I lied about it being poisonous.  I figured it would be a good tease since you slept in there instead of in our room.  In fact, that was a pretty gentle snake."

She growled and huffed off, screaming:  "What am I going to do with you?"

End Chapter Eight

Thank you.  Thank you.  Thank you.  Reviews are the reason I keep writing.  Thank you all so much.


	9. Missing Buttons

Chapter Nine

Missing Buttons

Roxton paced back and forth in their bedroom, gathering up his belongings that he would need for the day.  He slipped on his freshly washed shirt and went to button it up when he noticed something that boiled the blood in his veins.  "Marguerite!"  He barked.  "Get in here!  _Now_!"

Marguerite, who was in the kitchen helping Veronica with breakfast, tossed her friend an apology before trudging into the bedroom.  "What is it, your Lordship?" she snapped, disdain dripping from her words.  "I'm not a servant you can just order around you know."

"Forget that."  He held up the sides of his shirt.  "Do you notice something unusual, darling?" he said with feigned sweetness.  "Let me point it out for you."  He leaned into her space and shouted:  "There are no bloody buttons!"

"You don't have to yell, Roxton.  _I am right here_!"

"Where are they, Marguerite?  Just tell me where they are and I'll forget the whole thing."

"I would love to tell you _if I knew where they are_!"

"Fine.  If that's the way you want it.  But don't think you can just…"  

"I have better things to do," she interjected, "than stand here and be scolded!"  She stomped away.

"Like what?" he yelled after her.  "Complaining?  Thinking up another prank?  Trying to find another way to drive me crazy!"

"Helping Veronica with breakfast!"

"Ha!  If you really want to help: don't help!  I for one don't want to eat another piece of burnt mystery food!  Breakfast shouldn't be a game of guess-what-it-is!"

"That's enough," Veronica screamed.  "Will you two knock it off?  I don't know what's going on here, but it's disrupting the entire household!"

Roxton left the bedroom and entered the kitchen.  "I'm sorry, Veronica.  You're right."  He narrowed his eyes at Marguerite.  "Me and my _darling wife_ will keep our arguments to ourselves.  Right, darling?"

She just glared at him.

Malone came bounding off the elevator, his smile quickly vanishing when he caught site of the trio standing around the kitchen.  He inched forward cautiously.  "Is everything all right?"  He pointed to Roxton's shirt.  "Where are your buttons?"

All three threw eye-daggers at Malone.  

Roxton snapped, "Who knows?  The Button Fairy must've snuck in and stolen them!"  He flashed an evil glare at Marguerite before marching back into his room.  He yanked the shirt off him and threw it.  He stormed to his chest and pulled out another one, inspecting it before putting it on.  _She'll be the death of me._

End Chapter Nine

Don't fret, people.  I'm pretty sure there will be a happy ending. 


	10. Twisted

Chapter Ten

Twisted

The afternoon was hot, but a light breeze drifted through.  Marguerite wandered outside, a book in hand.  She waved at Challenger who was busy catching small rodents to feed his new pet.  He nodded her way, then, scurried off into the underbrush.  He had named the snake Edison after Thomas Edison the famous inventor of the light bulb.  Marguerite had not be amused when the professor decided to keep the creature, but as long as it was kept in a contained area, she supposed she could deal with it.

Marguerite carefully crawled onto the net swing Challenger had put up a few weeks back.  She loved to come out here and read when she wanted some alone time.  She leaned back, settling in to enjoy her book.  The swing tittered then, the ends twisted up, trapping her inside.  She struggled to get free, but it only resulted in her rolling over.  She was now imprisoned in the netting, staring at the ground.  "John!  Challenger!  Veronica!  Malone!"

Her face pressed against the netting, cutting into her flesh.  She wiggled her feet, but found very little room to move in.  Squirming, she was unable to get her feet free.  They were awkwardly bent over each other, causing pain to shot up her ankle whenever she budged.

"Damn," she murmured.  She reached her hands up, trying to undo her face, but her hair was caught in the twist.  Frustrated, she used all her strength to hoist her self back around.  She took a few deep breaths, glaring up at the tree branches.  "I could use a little help!"

Challenger came rushing out of the forest.  He took one look at her and sprinted over.  "Oh dear, Marguerite.  Lay still, I'll get you out."

When Marguerite was free, a few strands of her hair stuck in the netting, she examined the swing.  One of the hooks had been twisted and the edges of the net had been folded over.  _Sabotage_, she thought bitterly.  _The little prick knows I come out here a lot._

She stormed back into the tree house.  "Where's Roxton?" she demanded of Malone.

"He went to collect Kimiwi for Challenger."

Marguerite fled from the house in search of her husband.  She trekked through the forest until she reached the field where the Kimiwi grew like weeds.  She saw him stooped over, plucking a chunk full of Kimiwi from the ground.  "Roxton," she snapped.

He glanced up, frowning.  "Oh.  It's you.  Come to scream at me some more, Marguerite?"

"No," she said more kindly.  _Don't let him know he got you with the swing._  "I was just worried about you."

He eyed her strangely, his eyes narrowing as they often did.  "Worried about me?  For Heaven's why?"

She smiled, walking up to stand directly in front of him.  "Ok, maybe worried was the wrong word."  She leaned forward, kissing him sweetly on the mouth.  "Let's just forget the whole messy business."  She nibbled his ear.  "What do you say, John?  Truce?"

He pursed his lips to the side in thought before shrugging.  "Sure.  Why not?"

Marguerite ran her hands along his chest, her lips cascading up and down his throat.  She slipped off his suspenders then, pulled his shirt free from his pants.  She slid her hand down and groped him.  "Do you want me, John?"

"Yes," his moan came out deep and full of yearning.

Marguerite quickly withdrew her hand and stepped back.  "You should have thought about that before tampering with the swing!"  She whirled around and marched back towards the tree house.

End Chapter Ten

For those of you who wanted to see some sexual action.  Lol.  I know it's not what you all quite had in mind, but it's what you're getting.


	11. Coming Clean

Chapter Eleven

Coming Clean

Part One

When Roxton returned home, he was irritable and solemn, dumping the Kimiwi on Challenger's counter and walking stiffly up to the main living area of the tree house.  He didn't dare look in Marguerite's direction, but instead ambled straight into their bedroom and didn't desert the room until dinner.

Roxton slid into his seat at the one end of the table without his usual air of merriment.  Marguerite was to his left, Malone at his right with Veronica beside the journalist, and Challenger directly across from him at the head of the table.  Roxton kept his eyes trained on the food, ignoring those around him.  Marguerite in turn pretended he didn't exist, never looking his way, which was fine with him.

The other three members of the makeshift family ate with unease, their eyes flickering between the two lovers.  Finally Challenger cleared his throat, setting down his fork.  "Roxton?  Marguerite?  Is everything all right?"

"Oh, just fine, George," Roxton stated casually.  He risked a glance at Marguerite who refused to look his way.  "At least it's nothing you need to concern yourself with.  Marguerite and I won't involve the three of you."

"So, it's entirely a personal matter?"  Challenger appeared unconvinced.  "One that can and will be solved without our intervention?"

"All in due course, George."

"Ha," Marguerite interjected, twirling her fork through her food.  "Speak for yourself."

"Ok, fine, Marguerite," he slammed his fork down and leaned back, crossing his arms across his broad chest.  "What is it that you have to say?  That you and I will continue on with this absurdity until someone breaks down all together?"

"No, that maybe you and I won't continue on at all!"

Roxton grew stone cold, his eyes turning into slits, his eyebrows knitting worriedly together.  "What are you implying, Marguerite?"

"Nothing," she muttered.

"No, I think I deserve an answer.  Are you saying you want a divorce over this foolishness?"

"I'm not saying anything, John."

Roxton peered around him at the faces of his friends before standing up.  "Let's go, Marguerite.  I think we need to have a talk."

She rolled her eyes up at him and sighed, but got up nevertheless.  "Are you going to lead me off a cliff, Roxton?"

"Sometimes I wish I could," he said more harshly than he intended, "but then I realize I would end up jumping off after you.  So the whole damn thing would be bloody pointless."

"Would you really?"

"Without a moment's hesitation."

She gave him a faint smile before turning away and walking to the elevator.

Part Two

They sat side-by-side by the water's edge, their feet dangling in the river and their eyes fixed on the running water.  Roxton finally relented and gazed over at her, his heart swelling.  Despite how infuriating, demanding, and selfish she could be, he still loved her with all his soul.

"Marguerite, darling, this has gotten out of hand."  He twisted his body slightly so that he was facing her.  "I think we need to come completely clean with everything.  No more pranks.  No more lies."

She sighed, peering up at him through her dark eyes.  "I know."  She scooted closer.  She got between his legs, resting her back against his chest and felt content when he wrapped his arms around her waist.  "Did you manipulate the swing?"

"No."

"Then I'm sorry about what I did earlier in the field."

"You're forgiven.  Now I know you stole the buttons from my favorite shirt."

"Yes, but I wouldn't have if you hadn't placed the snake in my bed."

Roxton chuckled into her hair.  "But, darling, I didn't place the snake in your bed.  It must've crawled in on its own.  Yet, I did lie about it being poisonous, but you knew that already.  And I did that hoping it would frighten you because I didn't want you sleeping in there again."

"I wouldn't have gone and slept in there in the first place if you hadn't put mud in the shower system," she pointed out matter-of-factly.

"I wouldn't have done that if you hadn't placed the beetle in my drink."

Marguerite laughed, turning in his arms to wrap hers around his neck.  "John, I didn't put the beetle in your drink."

"Honestly?"

"Honestly."  She kissed him chastely.  "This whole mess could have been prevented if you had only believed me."

"Then how did it get there?"

"Who knows and who cares?"  She kissed him more soundly, her lips leaving a trail down his throat.

He moaned and fell back, taking her with him.  "So, darling," he softly bit the spot where her neck and shoulder met, "what do you say we formally make up and forget the whole bloody mess?"

"Of course," she pressed herself more firmly against him and rotated her hips causing him to growl with pleasure.  Stealing a passionate kiss, she pulled back, sitting up, and straddled him, gently rocking back and forth against his groin until the man underneath her became hard.  She smiled wickedly and leaned down to whisper against his ear, "But not out here."  She rolled off of him.

Roxton groaned with frustration.  "Darling, you will be the death of me!"

"No, having sex out here will be the death of you."  She crawled to her feet, looking around.  "Who knows what would sneak up on us?  I personally don't want to become some dinosaur's feast."

Roxton muttered obscenities under his breath as he got to his feet.  "You're lucky I find you so _adoringly_ infuriating," he said, repeating his line from last week when they had made lunch together.

She laughed, taking his hand and guiding him back towards the tree house.  "I love you, John."

"Well, I love you too, Marguerite.  Just don't ask me why."

"John," she warned playfully.

"What?  I'm only being honest."

She stopped, turning back around to stare at him with amusement.  "Just shut up."

Roxton grinned like a fool.  _At least we're back to normal._

End Chapter Eleven

End Story?  I don't know.  Anyway, thank you ever so kindly for the reviews!  If this is the end, which it most likely will be, you probably won't hear from me in awhile.  So, thank you so much for accepting me!  Anyway, this gives those of you who didn't get a chase to go ahead and read _Trusting Danger_ and _Unexpected Danger_.  Due to a number of requests, I will most likely be making it into a trilogy.  The third installment will be started in late September and will be called _Resisting Danger_.  However, don't hold your breath for it.  It may never arrive.  It all depends on if I feel up to writing it.  Once again, thank you all so much! 


	12. War of the Hats

That's right folks: THE STORY CONTINUES!!  If you need a refresher, don't be afraid to go back and reread anything.  I hope you like that I decided to add-on.  If it's not a hit, then I won't worry about it.  Chapter Eleven had a good enough ending.

SET A **FEW MONTHS** AFTER CHAPTER ELEVEN ENDED

Chapter Twelve

War of the Hats

Part One

Sand kicked up licking her pants and cascading into her boots where it scorched her feet.  She grimaced slightly, her eyes flaring with annoyance.  Roxton scrutinized her every facial expression as he followed obediently at her side to their destination merely ten more yards away.  He couldn't help but cringe – yet find it amusing at the same time – when she nearly toppled over a rock and began cursing worse than a sailor.  Her bun had loosened and wisps off dark hair stuck to the sides of her face due to the humidity.

He peered into the glaring sun, shading his eyes with his hand to his forehead.  When he pulled it away, his palm and fingers were dripping with sweat.  He gave himself a mental kick for forgetting to grab their hats that were presumably tossed carelessly on the bed at home.  He had meant to pack them for the sake of not only keeping himself from being baked, but to protect himself from his wife's tempered personality.  Marguerite had a habit of getting cranky when forced to trek across the jungle – not that he blamed her in anyway.  And it was worse when she was without her hat.

Up ahead the clattering of tribal conversation swept over to them and Roxton could make out bits and pieces of what the council was discussing.  Words like "foreigners" and "trouble" were a consist wherever they went.

Marguerite leaned into his personal space so close he could feel her warm breath on his jugular vein, the blood thickening with the soft touch.  Her face was masked with her usual calm exterior, but being married to a person for a year gives you insight on the true emotions raging inside – she was pissed.  Her demanding voice wavered as she halted, turning her body slightly towards his.  "You forgot my hat on purpose."

"What," he exclaimed, knitting his eyebrows at her.  "Why the bloody hell would I do a thing like that?"  He was insulted over the accusation; baffled by it's origin.  "Besides, I don't have my hat either."

She scoffed, wrapping her arms tightly across her chest, challenging him.  "Because if you had brought your hat then you know you would've had to give it to me.  It would have been the gentlemanly and _husbandly_ thing to do."

"Marguerite, I try to follow you – I really do.  But I'm at a loss every time."  He shushed her attempts at a rebuttal.  "Now let's get this over with.  I don't like hanging around these tribes anymore than they like us snooping around."

Marguerite growled, but managed to paint a pleasant smile on her face before entering the village.  They needed supplies after all.

Part Two 

The sun was settling to bed by the time they finally arrived back at the tree house, Marguerite was still fuming about her absent hat.  She had concluded that Roxton left it behind because she had been complaining about going on their "short hike".  He denied it, rolling his eyes at her and telling her she was always looking for the negative – too suspicious for her own damn good.

This made her more aggravated.

"Well, John, someone has to play the sensible one.  You can't just go around trusting everybody you come in contact with."

"I'm not just anyone, Marguerite, I'm your bloody husband!"

"Oh, so that puts you above everyone else?"

"Well it should!  God, Marguerite, sometimes I swear you enjoy being difficult!  You get your thrills from it!  You know how twisted that is, Marguerite?"

She huffed then stalked away.

Part Three

After eating a hearty meal of raptor meat, fruit, and vegetables, Roxton was ready to cash in for the night.  He stumbled into their bedroom, kicking off his shoes.  On the bed, Marguerite lay curled up on her side, facing towards his side of the bed.  He knew she loved him, but sometimes he felt she was still pushing him away.

Sighing, he remembered he had to turn off the water hose: there was a leak again.  He grabbed his hat and slapped it on then yanked his boots back onto his feet.  He took three long strolls before halting.  He slowly reached up, placing his hand on the top of his hat…but only felt his hair.

Marguerite had cut off the top.

_So you want to play that game_, he seethed, refusing to take his hat off.  He wouldn't give her that satisfaction.

End Chapter Twelve

(These are comments to those who reviewed Chapter Eleven)

**LoveMR**: See, I took your advice.

**TheChosenOne3**: Well, I guess my heart was in it…for now…

**A. Windsor**: It was a great end, but I thought I would write a little more.

**Enchanter**: I hope this second edition keeps the hook in, too.

**Fran Thurston**: I really enjoyed your review.  I guess the beetle will always remain a mystery.  I'll let the readers decide how it got into his drink.

**Wow**: Here's more of it!  And, yeah, they're more favorites, too.  And thanks for the ratings!

**Clux**:  I tried to make it at least somewhat amusing.  All my other stories are kind of serious and dark.


	13. Feeling Woozy

Chapter Thirteen

Feeling Woozy

Part One

One of the most natural, irksome sounds was that of chirping birds at five in the morning.  Groaning, Marguerite buried her head of dark hair further in the pillow and screamed, disturbing her husband from his own restless sleep.  "It's too damn early," she whined, her nose pressing into the pillow so hard she could feel the mattress.  "Shut them up, John!"

"What do you expect me to do," he responded groggily, rolling onto his stomach, flinging his arm over her slender waist.

"Shoot them!  Shoot every last one of them!"

Roxton chuckled then yawned.  "Marguerite, if they annoy you so much then you go shoot them."

"I'm not getting up until I smell coffee," she mumbled.

He snorted, leaning over to place a lazy kiss on the top of her head.  "Ok, you royal pain in the arse.  I'll fetch you some coffee.  I know what you're like without your daily dose of poison."

She flipped over, grabbing his arm as he went to crawl off the mattress.  "Not now, John.  It's too early.  You can get me coffee later.  Right now, we need to sleep."

"How about I make you some herbal tea instead?  It'll help relax you."

"Mmm, fine, I suppose."  She released her hold, her arm flopping onto the bed.  "Don't be too long."

He smiled, pulling on a fresh shirt before wading off to the kitchenette.  She tried to act so independent – and she was – but he knew that she secretly despised being left alone, especially now that she was used to his presence in her bed.

Feeling amused with himself, he went about preparing her tea.  He wasn't bitter about yesterday.  Last night he had discovered – after returning from shutting off the water – why she had been in such a sour mood: after three months of a no show, she was having her cycle again.  Living in such harsh conditions had placed a strain on her monthly cycle, sometimes going four or five months without her menstruation.  So when it did rear its ugly head, it usually came with a vengeance.

He tasted the warm liquid, making sure it wasn't too hot.  Satisfied, he wondered back into their room, offering the cup out to her as though it were pearls.  "Here, darling, drink some of this.  It'll soothe you in no time."

Part Two

Still feeling woozy, Marguerite managed to shuffle to the living room, her hair entangled and her cheeks puffy.  Veronica stared at her worriedly from her easel.  "Marguerite, are you feeling ok?  You've been asleep all day.  Roxton told us not to bother you."

"What time is it?"  Marguerite collapsed onto a wicker chair, her eyes slipping shut once more.

"Almost dinner time.  Roxton and Malone went to collect from the garden."  Veronica gently placed her brush down – it was one of her last – and got up from her chair.  "Is something wrong?"

"Yeah," Marguerite snarled.  "That little toad drugged me."

"Who?"

"Who do you think?  My darling husband."  She wasn't able to vent much more for in a moment, she was out cold.

Veronica shook her head.  "Those two," she muttered before heading off to set the table.

End Chapter Thirteen


	14. Mrs Homemaker

**__**

**_CHECK OUT MY WEB PAGE FOR EXCITING LOST WORLD NEWS!_**  I have it in my fanfic bio.  You'll enter the Home Page and off to the right is a list of stuff.  Click on "Lost World."

Chapter Fourteen

Mrs. Homemaker

Part One

Wilting in her chair, Marguerite scowled at her husband across the breakfast table.  When she had zoned out last night while talking to Veronica, she never revived until morning.  At least Roxton had had the courtesy to carry her limp body to the bedroom, making sure she was covered.  Yet, that didn't mean she forgave him for his senseless little stunt.

"Marguerite, darling, will you pass the apples?"

Marguerite, glowering, lifted the bowl of apples and placed them further from his reach.

Veronica, Malone, and Challenger exchanged glances.  Malone, who was now faced with the dilemma of having the bowl in front of him, cautiously measured Marguerite's mood before silently passing the bowl to Veronica who in turn handed it to Roxton.

Challenger cleared his throat, smiling tightly at "his children."  "I made a rather marvelous discovery this morning."  He paused, contemplating.  "Well, ok, it is rather quite minimal, but every discovery is a step closer.  Have any of you heard about the theory of atoms having electrons, protons, and neutrons?  You see the nucleus of an atom – which is believed to be positively charge – is made up of the protons and neutrons.  The electrons – which rotate around the nucleus in what's called an electron cloud…" his voice died away as his failure took form.  Sometimes there just wasn't anything a parent could do to soothe quarreling children, especially when referring to Marguerite and Roxton.

Marguerite yawned and she grew more irritable.  "I'm exhausted."  She got up, dumping her dishes on top of Roxton's plate.  "Take care of it for me," her tone left no room to argue.

Roxton stared at the pile, yearning for the eggs that were now buried under her dishes.  "Sure thing, your highness," he mumbled sarcastically.  "Oh, excuse me, I mean, my Lady."

Marguerite smiled and kissed his cheek, his five o'clock shadow scraping her lips.  "That's more like it, Lord Roxton."

He rolled his eyes, fighting back a grin.  "Damn, Marguerite, I can never stay angry with you."

"Why would you be angry at me anyway?"

"Maybe because my hat now has a sunroof."

Malone, chuckling, asked: "What do you mean?"

"Nothing."  Roxton turned back to his wife.  "Have a pleasant nap, darling."

Part Two

Stepping out of the shower, securing a towel around his waist, Roxton glanced around before making a mad dash to their bedroom.  Marguerite slept peacefully on their bed, her dark hair cascading over the pale sheets.  He ignored her entirely, yanking open a drawer to pull out a pair of pants.  "_Marguerite_," he boomed, slamming the drawer shut.  "This has gone too far!"

Roxton glanced behind him, but was met with the sight of her backside.  Infuriated, he marched over to the mattress, clasped her wrists, and jerked her off the bed.  Marguerite, wrenched from her sleep, yelped and lost her footing, stumbling back onto the mattress, her elbow banging into the headboard.  Roxton denied her sympathy.  "What the bloody hell's the matter with you?"

"What's the matter with me," she screeched, crawling off the bed.  "What the hell is the matter with _you_?  _You're_ the one who flung _me_ around!"

"My clothes," Roxton seethed, indicating the dresser.  "What the hell did you do to my clothes?"

"Well, excuse me," she retorted, dignified with her actions.  "I was only trying to help you out with the washing."

"By turning everything pink!"  Roxton tossed his hands in the air.  "I can't take this anymore!  You fix it!  And you fix it right now!"

"Don't yell at me, Lord Roxton!  This isn't _my_ fault!  Since I'm so tired I must've _accidentally_ dropped some red dye into the soap."

"Wh-I-what the hell are you talking about," he demanded.  "First of all, you can't "accidentally" drop red dye in soap.  But let's say you did.  So then if you were so damn tired then why'd you do the wash anyway?"

"Because unlike some people, I like to do _nice_ things for my spouse!"

"I don't like your tone of voice, Marguerite.  The way you say that I feel as though you are accusing me of something."

"Maybe I am."

A moment stretched tense between before Roxton lost his patience.  "Well," he asked.  "What is it?"

"Oh, as if you don't know."

Roxton was annoyed with the coy game.  "Fine.  Whatever you say.  I'll go borrow something of Challenger's or Malone's."  He stormed out of the room fuming.  _I could forgive her for the hat, but this is pissing me off._

End Chapter Fourteen

**LoveMR**: Cute but demented, right?  Lol.

**TheChosenOne3**:  Do you mind if I ask what country you're from?  It's just that the pattern of your reviews tends to lead me to believe that you're elsewhere.  Anyway, I'm thrilled that you like this.  It's a completely different atmosphere than my other stories.  I wasn't sure if it would stick on people.

**Keys3303**:  I will as long as I keep getting requests!

**SierraSunshine**:  I keep it going because of reviewers like you!  (By the way, I hope you don't mind that I sent you that Season One discount.  I promise that you won't receive junk mail because of it.  Amazon is a trustworthy site.).

**Fab**:  I'm glad you liked Chapter 11 as an ending – so did I.  Yet, I had numerous requests to write more.  As for the tea…

**Zeusfluff**:  I'm working as fast as I can: I promise!

**A. Windsor**: But did he _really_ drug her? 

**LMR**:  I've never been a big fan of Finn so I generally leave her out of my stories.  In a couple other ones she is mentioned, but not present.

**Kat183**:  But did he really drug her?  Mmm…I don't know…(and, yeah, he needs a hat.  Don't worry, he'll have one.).

**MissMeganJane**:  Thank you very much.  I love little pranks and arguments, too – as long as they eventually make-up.  


	15. Skin Deep

Chapter Fifteen

Skin Deep

She was feeling regretful, which wasn't a normal emotion for Marguerite Roxton.  She was a woman who wasn't led by guilt.  Yet, she couldn't help but be remorseful about turning all her husband's clothes pink.  Hell, she didn't even like the color.  "I should've dyed them blue," she mused as she lathered on the herbal lotion Challenger had created.  "But he likes blue."

She set the bottle aside and sighed.  For all she knew Roxton may not have drugged her tea, after all.  It could've naturally been the herbs.  It was highly plausible that Veronica had accidentally sprinkled too much of one thing into the gathering bag.  _But don't give him the benefit of the doubt_, she warned herself.  _Trust can only lead to two things: ignorance or betrayal._

Marguerite glanced up as Veronica trekked into the bedroom.  The jungle beauty dropped a basket of clothes on the bed in a huff.  "You're lucky the dye you used wasn't permanent.  But it did take Ned and I _four hours_ to scrub them clean.  What the hell were you thinking, Marguerite?  Are you begging Roxton for a divorce or what?"

"A divorce wouldn't do us any good here," Marguerite griped, eyeing the freshly washed clothes with hidden relief.  _Thank God.  I like his clothes_.  "We're living in the same tree house…not what I would call the ideal place to escape your spouse."

"Stop it, Marguerite," Veronica ordered, her eyes blazing.  "I'm sick of your behavior.  If you didn't want to marry him then you shouldn't have."  She crossed her arms over her chest.  "You don't know how good you have it and by the time you find out it may be too late."

"Oh, Veronica, don't lecture me."  Marguerite shook her head in defense.  "I know John's a wonderful man.  I'm not blind.  But he did start this."

"No, Marguerite, you did.  You cut his hat for god's sake!"

"Well he purposely left mine behind!"

"That's ridiculous.  Just stop and think for a change, Marguerite.  Roxton wouldn't be so devious.  He loves you more than you love your precious little diamonds."  Veronica sighed, dropping her arms to her side.  "But I can't say the same about you."

Marguerite watched her friend stalk off, feeling more repentant by the second.  She peered down at her hands.  "I do love him more than diamonds," she murmured, trying to convince no one in particular.

"And who might this lucky man be," Roxton teased as he strolled into their bedroom, his anger over his clothes dispersed now that the problem had been resolved.  "Someone I know?"

Marguerite smiled tightly at the handsome Lord.  "You know I love you more than any stone or gem, right?"

"Well, I'm not sure, Marguerite.  Who once said that riches were the only things that ranked a life?"

"I never said that," Marguerite contested hotly.

He flashed her a charming, irritating grin.  "I know, but you might as well have."

"Shut up.  You know I love you.  And I'm…I'm…you know…," she bowed her head and muttered, "sorry about your clothes…and hat."

Roxton chuckled and plopped down beside her on the mattress.  "Don't worry about it, darling.  Veronica said she thinks she can mend it."  He reached up and stroked her cheek with the palm of his hand.  "I try to stay mad at you, but I can't.  I guess that means I love you, too."

Marguerite rolled her eyes.  "You've wanted me since day one, Lord Roxton."

He laughed.  "It's not like I didn't make my intentions very clear."  His eyes randomly swept the area around them.  "I better get back to Malone.  I was helping him with some digging."

After he'd left, Marguerite went to the kitchen where Veronica was sketching.  "It's beautiful, Veronica," Marguerite genuinely complimented.

Veronica smiled.  "Thanks."  She glanced up from her work and gasped.  "Marguerite!  What happened to you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Look at yourself."

Marguerite peered down at her arms and screeched.  "That bastard!  That manipulative bastard!  And I thought we had an understanding!  What the hell did he put in my lotion!"  She tore from the room.  "That man will regret this for the rest of his life!  I can't believe he turned my skin orange!"  She leaned over the balcony and shouted: "This is war, Lord Roxton!"

End Chapter Fifteen

**Little Bird**:  Thanks for the update.  If you find out his name will you please inform me?

**SierraSunshine**:  I try to be!

**LoveMR**:  Was the payback up to your acceptance?

**TheChosenOne3**:  Oh no, it's just that your reviews come over night so I thought maybe you were on the other side of the world.  And, yes, it is very fun!  And I do need a balancing story.

**Fab**:  I considered her cutting his pants, but I didn't want a prank too similar.

**Zeus Fluff**:  I'm glad you find it funny.

**Keys3303**:  Oh, but I must keep you guessing until the end!

**MissMeganJane**:  I like it when you don't know what's going.  It means I'm doing this right!  I don't want the readers to have it all figured out right away.

**A Windsor**:  Like I told a few others, I want you confused until the end!

**Enchanter**:  Everyone seems more upset about his hat than anything else.  Lol.  I admit, though, it was difficult having her cut his hat.  I love his hat!

**DD**:  It's not the rest, but it's a start.

**Madge Smith**:  I wasn't so sure how people would react to Chapter Ten.  I'm not an author known to put smut-like scenes in my stories.  I'm glad you thought it appropriate based on Marguerite's character because I can without a doubt see her doing something like it, too. 


	16. Hair Stylist

Chapter Sixteen

Hair Stylist

Part One

Roxton stumbled into the bedroom, peeling off his dress shirt and boots.  He was exhausted, the bed calling to him with urgency.  Marguerite was curled up on her side, breathing softly.  He gently crawled in beside her, draping an arm around her slender waist and resting his chin lightly on top of her head.  In moments he was asleep.

Marguerite cracked an eye open and uttered, "John?  You awake?"  She nudged him, rolling over onto her other side to be face to face with her husband.  "John," she hissed, running a hand seductively over his chest.  Satisfied that he was dead-to-the-world, she grinned mischievously and climbed off the bed.

Boy, in the morning was he going to be sorry he ever tangled with the Black-Widow-spy-Marguerite-Roxton.

Part Two

Roxton groaned and wished he could shoot every single bird in the jungle.  Grumbling, he hoisted himself out of bed, shocked to find that Marguerite was all ready gone.  He dressed quickly and bounded cheerfully into the kitchen where Veronica and Marguerite were giggling as they prepared breakfast.  He strolled over to wife and wrapped his arms around her, pecking the side of her creamy neck.  "Good morning, darling."

Marguerite froze, her eyes wide.  She slowly turned around in his embrace and stared up at him.  "Good morning, John," she answered sweetly.  "We're making toast and eggs.  I hope you're hungry."

"I am," he murmured huskily, capturing her mouth with his for a quick, but lustful kiss.  "I hope there'll be desert."

Marguerite swatted him with the spoon she had been using for the eggs.  "Lord Roxton, you scoundrel," she playfully scolded.

Veronica rolled her eyes, smiling herself.  "Roxton, why don't you round up the other two?  It's almost ready."

Roxton nodded at the younger woman then tore off towards Challenger's lab.  "Come, old man, the women have cooked a fine meal."

Challenger set down his latest contraption.  "All right, just let me – good God, man, what have you done?"  He shook his head, fumbling for words.  "I mean, not that it doesn't look smashing, it's just that…well…uh…"

Roxton wrinkled his eyebrows.  "What are you talking about?"

"You hair.  I just never thought…I mean…"

Roxton tentatively reached up to touch his precious hair.  "**_MARGUERITE_**!"

He raced up the stairs barking, "How could you do this?  You are the spawn of Satan you are!  I've never met a woman more devious or infuriating as you, Marguerite Krux!  You have no limit to your evil depths!"

By now he was storming towards his wife, but Marguerite backed away from him, using the table as a barrier between them.  "You've done some cruel things yourself, _Lord_ John Roxton!  Need I remind you of the tea!  The dye in my lotion!  Or, even further back: the mud in the shower!"

"We buried that hatchet, Marguerite!  Along with you removing all the buttons from all my shirts!"  He marched around the table, but she kept eluding him.  "But I thought you dying my clothes was taking a step to far – luckily the dye came out!  But this…this…is a leap over the fence!"

Veronica glanced between the two.  "Marguerite, you told me he wanted his hair – "

"She what!"  Roxton tossed his anger at Veronica.  "Are you saying she told _you_ to do this!"

"No, it's just this morning she said that last night you let her do it.  It's what you wanted."

"Why the hell would I want this!"  He glared back at his wife, his eyes dangerously dark.  "I'm through," he seethed; his deep, quiet tone more frightening than his yelling.  "You've made your point, Miss Krux.  You win whatever sick game you've been playing.  I'm out of here."  He calmly walked away.

Marguerite rushed after him.  "John!  Wait!  I'm sorry!"  She caught up to him in their room where he was packing his satchel.  "John?  John, what are you doing?"

He ignored her, stepping around her to gather up his weapons.

"John, please, it was only a joke.  A stupid, childish prank.  We've always pulled little stunts."

"Little?" He whirled on her.  "You call this little!  You shaved all my hair off!"

"I know and I'm sorry!  It'll grow back!"

"That's not the point, Marguerite," he sighed bitterly.  "And until you realize that, this marriage won't work."

"I do realize it!  I do!  Come on, John, don't do this.  I'm not the only one who's been acting childish lately.  You drugged my tea.  You put orange dye in my lotion."

"No, Marguerite, I didn't."

And then he was gone.

**NOTES**:  I know I know…this story is turning sour.  I'll patch it up in the next chapter.  I swear!

End Chapter Sixteen

**Zeusfluff**:  I had a relapse, but I'm beginning to feel better now.  Thank you for caring.

**LoveMR**:  Bet you never thought she'd shave his hair off!  EEK!  I LOVE HIS HAIR!

**A. Windsor**:  Lord Roxton is devious…and Marguerite's just as bad!

**Keys3303**:  Marguerite didn't just get even; _she got even_!

**Fab**:  I wouldn't have it any other way: they belong together!

**ChosenOne3**:  I didn't mean for Veronica to come off bitchy.  She's just concerned.  But hey, everyone reads into things differently.  Yet, I do think you're right about them needing a woman-to-woman chat.

**MissMeganJane**:  Surprise!  I think this chapter will really throw people in for the loop.  HIS POOR HAIR!  


	17. Shoving Her Off

**NOTES**:  I am **_so_** sorry about this chapter being so late!  For some wacko reason I kept thinking that I had already finished it!

Chapter Seventeen

Shoving Her Off

Roxton trekked through the jungle, fury driving him further and further away from his intolerable wife.  _Ah!  Intolerable indeed!  Not too mention infuriating, devious, clever, charming, beautiful…_Roxton smacked a low hanging branch out of his way.  _I'm losing focus here_.

Roxton refused to allow her to sweeten him into forgiveness.  This time she had gone beyond too far.  She had been stretching the outer limit for days, but now she'd charged right through it.  He was enraged.  He was bitter.  He was…_hiking through the forest.  What am I thinking?  Running away won't solve the problem._

"Oh, but it damn well bloody help me cool down," he reasoned with himself aloud.  "If I tried talking to her now…" he chuckled "…things won't be pretty."

From somewhere behind him, he heard a shriek.  Roxton jerked, quickly bringing his rifle up in front of him.  Cautiously, he backtracked, his eyes scanning the thick underbrush.  _Great.  I'll be killed by a raptor.  Save Marguerite the time.  Though it is her fault I'm out here.  If she could have…_

"Marguerite?"  Roxton lowered his rifle, eyeing his wife strangely.  She was sprawled on the ground, her hands covered in mud.  Looking more closely, Roxton laughed.  It wasn't mud.

Marguerite glared up at him.  "You could try being a gentleman and help me up you know!  Instead of just standing there with that bloody smirk on your face!"  She sniffed, her nostrils flaring and her face cringing.  "Ahhh-yuck!"

Roxton relented, reaching a hand out and grasping her upper arm.  Pulling her up, he crinkled his nose.  "We better find a water hole or spring to wash you off in."  He marched off, not bothering to see if she were following.

She trudged up to his side, struggling to keep up with his long strides.  "John, slow down!  I didn't come out here to fight with you!"

"Then why did you," Roxton snapped.

"John, please, I know I went to far – even for me.  I'm sorry.  I really am."

They reached the river and without warning, Roxton pushed Marguerite off the bank.  Her scream was cut off when she submerged under the rippling water, making a giant splash.  When her head popped up, her eyes went wide and her mouth agape.  "Lord John Roxton!"

He stood on the edge, one leg propped up on a tree stump.  He looked pleased with himself, smiling down at Marguerite with unashamed glee.  "I forgive you."

Marguerite laughed.  "Then I forgive you for anything you've done.  Or anything that I think you've done and held you responsible for.  I don't even care about it anymore."

Roxton rolled his eyes.  "Right.  You're a woman who forgets nothing, especially if you think it was a crime against you."

Marguerite only grinned and then dipped back under the water.

End Chapter Seventeen

END STORY

**LoveMR**:  Cute?  Aww, thank you! I'm glad you still like it.

**SierraSunshine**:  I love suspense!

**Zeusfluff**:  I know what it's like to have a lot of homework (I'm a college student).  And I'm always behind in my reading, too.  Anyway, thanks for your review!

**TheChosenOne3**:  Lol.  I think I've told you this before, but you crack me up.

**Fab**:  This help clear things up any?

**Keys3303**:  Breathe, buddy, breathe.  I don't want to give anyone a heart attack.

**A. Windsor**:  Ah, the mysteries of the world.

**Miss Megan Jane**:  I know.  It was hard to do but it had to be done!

**Madge Smith**:  I always patch things up.  I'm a closet romantic.  (Shhh, don't let word get out).

**Camila**:  Thank you so much!  I love it when she gets mad at him, too.

**LMR**:  I appreciate the vote of confidence.  Thanks!

**Pandagal**:  Genius?  Genuis!  YOU HEAR THAT EVERYONE?  I have genius ideas.  Lol.  Thank you a million!      


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